The Marriage Gala
by Resoan
Summary: The time has come for Anora and Alistair to declare their betrothal to the nobility, and they chose to do so at a gala. The Grey Wardens and party are invited. Set after Origins. F!Cousland romanced Alistair in the game.


Alistair and Anora's Wedding Gala

Summary: After the Warden coerces Alistair and Anora to marry, she spares Loghain at the Landsmeet, and has Loghain perform Morrigan's ritual on the eve of battle. All her allies still live, and have agreed to remain in Denerim until the Wedding Banquet is over, and Alistair's betrothal to Anora is officially announced. As is to be expected, Alistair does not have fond feelings of the Warden now, and with Loghain's presence things can only become awkward and deteriorate quickly. This features a female, human noble Grey Warden.

This obviously contains spoilers if you haven't beaten the game; it also has minor, implied spoilers from The Stolen Throne. Even if you haven't read the book, however, it shouldn't be a problem. If you have, you'll understand what I'm implying.

I do not own Dragon Age: Origins.

As always, I hope you enjoy! Reviews and messages are highly appreciated!

* * *

"Are you all right? You do not look well, Child," Wynne's sympathetic tone was not lost on Cirrenes, the Cousland sighing once before standing.

"We've talked far too much about this already, Wynne. I'd like to forget about it for the time being, especially since it will all but be thrust into my face this evening," Cirrenes answered. _And rather unpleasantly at that,_ Cirrenes internally added, her hope that everyone could get along for one night rather low.

"You ought to cheer up, Cirrenes. Isn't your brother to attend the festivities this evening?" Leliana's heavy Orlesian accent pierced the air, the rogue having a point.

"I understand what you're both doing, but I do not need to be coddled. It's by my own choices that I'm in the unpleasant situation I am right now," Cirrenes mumbled the second sentence under her breath, a soft sigh penetrating the back of her throat. If she could stare down and defeat the archdemon, facing Alistair shouldn't be that difficult, yes?

A knock startled the trio from their conversation, Anora's voice filling the chamber from the outside. "Warden? I was hoping I could speak to you for a few moments," the Queen sounded surprisingly humble, Leliana shrugging weakly when Cirrenes' eyes landed on her.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Cirrenes called, the chamber door opening moments later. "I admit, Your Highness, I was fully expecting you to just come in, considering your position," Cirrenes attempted at a joke, Anora's features remaining impassive as Cirrenes released a sigh.

"Warden, now is not the time for jesting," Anora's tone was severe, her pretty features remarkably taut and clearly betraying her unhappiness. "It was all I could do to convince Alistair to even attend his own wedding banquet, but I wanted to apologize ahead of time if he makes a scene. You know him, Warden; he will not trouble himself with propriety," Anora finished with a sigh. "I just thought to warn you, though I assume you already knew all of this," Anora turned on her heel and strode to the door. "Also, it might be in Ferelden's best interest were you to keep my Father from Alistair as much as you can," Anora paused at the door before disappearing into the corridor, Cirrenes plopping onto the mattress in exhaustion.

"I haven't even gone yet, and already I feel as though I could sleep peacefully," Cirrenes fell back to the mattress with a light _thud_.

"Now now! None of that! Your dress will get wrinkled!" Leliana ushered her up again, the Cousland directing a small glare at her Orlesian companion.

"We should go now, Warden. Better to face the music now than to wait and agonize over it," Wynne's soft tones finally convinced Cirrenes to stand, her deep green dress prettily accenting her crimson hair.

Despite being flanked by Leliana and Wynne, Cirrenes could not help but tremble, her face impassive and her eyes trained ahead of her. She was not afraid, not really; Alistair had made his feelings, or lack thereof, abundantly clear after the Landsmeet, and she had endured the pain then. Now would be no different.

Music met her ears as they continued 'round a corner, Zevran and Sten standing somewhat awkwardly outside of the chamber, both in the clothing of nobility. That type of clothing suited Zevran, his crooked smile offering Cirrenes a small bit of comfort. The qunari, however, was another matter entirely; he was standing rim-rod straight, the poor warrior feeling hopelessly out of place but enduring if only for the sake of his Kadan. "Who would know that a deadly goddess was hidden behind such a beautiful face?" Zevran approached with his honeyed words, Cirrenes lifting an eyebrow before offering a small smile.

"Kadan," Sten remarked, Cirrenes' eyes lifting to the qunari.

"Thank you, Sten," Cirrenes stated sincerely, the qunari merely inclining his head before falling back into his silence, his arms crossing over his chest. Frowning, Cirrenes silently wondered if Oghren and Loghain had already entered the gala chamber without her. Internally shrugging, Cirrenes steeled her resolve before pushing the door open and waltzing into the chamber, a great many nobles milling about, some dancing and others drinking. Unsurprisingly, Cirrenes noticed Oghren at the table with Teagan, the two involved in some contest Cirrenes wasn't certain she wished to know. "There ya are! 'Been wondering where you were," Oghren spotted her before she could find another distraction. Shaking her head, Cirrenes informed the others if her party they could do what they wished before she joined the dwarf and the Bann.

"I do hope you'll wait until the first formal dance before succumbing completely to the ale and collapsing at the table," Cirrenes murmured demurely, her eyes shining with a mischief.

"Worry not, My Lady," Teagan answered for the dwarf, her eyes moving to the handsome man. "Oghren well assures me that he has a stomach for alcohol; we won't make a spectacle of ourselves for hours to come," Teagan continued, his smile nearly lopsided.

"Of course, Bann Teagan. Do not let me ruin the fun," Cirrenes strode away before the two could protest, an inaudible sigh escaping her lips. _So much for Oghren staying sober for more than a day_, Cirrenes felt the urge to roll her eyes, though instead found herself standing next to Arl Eamon, the man currently speaking to one of the Banns.

"Lady Cousland! I wasn't aware you would be attending this evening," the Bann speaking to Eamon suddenly interjected, his voice loud and earning the pair more than a few looks. Eamon turned with wide eyes, Cirrenes bowing her head respectfully.

"It is good to see you again, Arl Eamon," Cirrenes offered the unnamed noble a small smile before he walked away.

"I am...surprised you are here as well, Warden," Eamon began, his tone somewhere between irritated and off-guard. "I suppose Anora's already talked to you concerning Alistair," Eamon sounded sincere enough, Cirrenes supposed.

"She has. Believe me, I would like to avoid unpleasantness at all costs this evening. After all, it is a happy occasion, is it not?" Cirrenes faked a laugh, Eamon's eyebrow lifting skeptically.

"I'm surprised you would say that, Warden," Eamon answered, his reply implying just _why _he was surprised in the first place.

"I believe that Ferelden is in good hands," Cirrenes could finally speak her mind, a reassuring smile on her lips.

"Arl Eamon!" the unmistakable timbre of Alistair's voice rang out behind Cirrenes, the Cousland swallowing once before quietly dismissing herself and traipsing away. She could practically see the confusion written on the King-to-be's face; _I will only cause him distress, pain,_ Cirrenes reminded herself inwardly, an arm abruptly rounding her shoulders.

"Fear not, dear Sister," Fergus whispered into her ear, Cirrenes smiling despite herself. "I thought you needed saving, lest Alistair find you," Fergus continued, his sister's smile disappearing once again.

"Thank you, Fergus. I appreciate it," Cirrenes wriggled out of his embrace. "I don't suppose you've seen Loghain, have you?" Cirrenes then asked, Fergus giving her a strange look before shaking his head.

"Afraid I haven't, little sister. Any particular reason you're looking for him?" Fergus then inquired curiously.

"Anora practically ordered me to keep him away from Alistair," Cirrenes rolled her eyes. "As though I had no notion that Alistair despises the man," Cirrenes clenched her jaw, Fergus finally taking the time to look critically at his sister.

"You look beautiful, if it's any consolation. Were you still marriageable as a Cousland, I'd wager every man here would be vying for your attention for his sons," Fergus complimented. "Or perhaps even himself," Fergus probably was referring to Teagan, the Bann now dancing with Bann Alfstanna.

"Thank you, Fergus. However, I never had any desire to be 'married off'. Had I wished to marry, you would be well aware of to whom I wished it," Cirrenes countered, Fergus laughing heartily.

"That you would have, Cirrenes. You always were headstrong and confident; it drove Mother mad, as I'm sure you remember," Fergus looked stricken after he finished speaking, neither of them having brought up their parents deaths since Renden Howe's attack nearly two years prior. Coughing once, Fergus spoke, "At any rate, I should go mingle. No doubt the rest of the nobles wish to better know the new teyrn of Highever."

Cirrenes hated to see him go, but couldn't begrudge him his reasoning. Hoping to be left to her thoughts for more than a handful of moments at a time, Cirrenes took a seat at a rather loud table, the Warden hoping they would all continue to be intrigued by whatever it was that held their attention so.

It seems she was in luck, the crowd veritably ignoring her presence as she picked at the food she had perched on her plate. Her eyes lifted once she heard Eamon's voice drown out the loud talking, the arl announcing that Anora and Alistair would share a dance together. Feeling her food sour in her mouth, Cirrenes skulked from the room to a balcony overlooking the courtyard, the night dark and the wind nipping at her exposed skin.

_I am weak_, Cirrenes inwardly berated herself, the pain of Alistair's abrupt departure from the Grey Warden's tearing open old wounds she had thought long since healed. Shivering, Cirrenes forced a mask of indifference onto her face, her eyes wandering to the sky which was filled with shimmering stars.

This was the way things needed to be; Alistair deserved a try at the throne of Ferelden, even if his father had not thought so. No doubt Anora would be helpful and skilled while dealing with the political intrigue of the nobles and the rebuilding of the country after the Blight had rampaged it so.

Duty had never been so difficult, so filled with emotion which threatened to overpower reason. _Thinking about what I've done...accomplishes nothing. Things are as they are; I can do nothing to alter the past_, Cirrenes released a breath.

"I should have known you'd be here," Cirrenes froze at the voice, the Warden not really surprised that Alistair had found her at long last.

"Oh? And why is that?" Cirrenes returned in an equally irritated tone, turning with defiant eyes to face the man.

"You were talking to Eamon earlier, weren't you? Did you think I couldn't see you?" Alistair continued, his voice very controlled.

"I thought you would like to avoid conversation," Cirrenes answered, Alistair rolling his eyes.

"Don't pretend it was my feelings you were trying to spare," he answered with a bitter glare, Cirrenes' jaw clenching.

"Fine. I won't. I had no desire to come here, Alistair. You wounded me just as horribly as I wounded you, and I have no suicidal tendency that would force me here if I could avoid it," Cirrenes felt her sluggish blood quicken in her veins, Alistair's face flushing from anger.

"Then why _are _ you here? Surely you could have done more than ignore me for the entire evening," Alistair's words sounded caustic.

"I owe Anora more respect than a pathetic excuse as to why I will not attend her wedding gala, even if her groom despises me so. I will not allow you to intimidate me away," Cirrenes' voice was emotional, erratic, and cracking. "Andraste's Blood, Alistair! Go to your wife and leave me in peace," Cirrenes was most certainly not crying; blinking the tears away, Cirrenes straightened her back and stared at Alistair unflinchingly.

Now was not the time for an argument; Alistair knew, and he chose to leave Cirrenes as she bid him.

Allowing herself to stagger, Cirrenes fell to her knees, one of her hands balling into a fist before striking the stone of the balcony floor. Pain didn't register as blood flowed down her hand, her head shaking once at her own stupidity before she stood. "I am such a fool," Cirrenes murmured to no on in particular, a harsh laughter echoing from her lips.

"A fool, perhaps. But a dutiful fool," Loghain appeared, Cirrenes rounding on the man.

"I don't recall asking your input, Loghain," Cirrenes groused, his icy eyes sliding down her arm to the blood dripping from her hand.

"So you didn't," Loghain nodded once before approaching, the newest Warden looking out towards the skyline. "Perhaps we are more alike than I cared to realize," Loghain muttered quietly, Cirrenes' eyes narrowing.

"Explain yourself," Cirrenes instructed, Loghain giving her a sideways glance.

"There are some things even you are not privy to," Loghain responded, Cirrenes not verbally responding. "Suffice it to say, I know your situation," Loghain finished, his eyes far-off as Cirrenes looked closer.

"Perhaps I was wrong about you, Loghain," Cirrenes began, the other turning to her with a curious look. "It seems you can sympathize with others," Cirrenes nearly laughed, the strange look on Loghain's face worth all the sovereigns she had accumulated over her travels.

"I beg your pardon?" Loghain questioned, trying to retain some of his virility.

"Nothing, of course," Cirrenes waved off the look. "Thank you," Cirrenes instead stated, her elbows leaning on the balcony's railing.

"Hmph," Loghain responded, Cirrenes repressing another giggle.

"I will take that as a you're welcome," Cirrenes continued, Loghain sighing in turn. "Apologies, Loghain, but you must have noticed by now that women are always victorious," Cirrenes could not help but laugh loudly at Loghain's appalled look.

"So it seems, Warden. So it seems," Loghain shook his head with a slight chuckle, Cirrenes smiling genuinely for once that entire evening. "Had my daughter not been Queen, Warden, I believe you would have been well up to the task," Loghain stated flatly.

"I'm content as I am," Cirrenes responded.

"That is a surprise," Loghain's voice betrayed his disbelief. "At any rate, we should return to the gala, Cirrenes," Loghain informed her.

"Of course," Cirrenes agreed, noting with some degree of satisfaction that Loghain had called her by her first name, not her surname of Cousland, or her title of Warden. She was no longer simply a name to be respected or a member of an order of warriors; the thought was more than a little meaningful. _I suppose my choices were not all terrible_, Cirrenes looked towards Loghain once again, the commanding presence of the man not easily overlooked by those attending the gala.

"You're bleeding!" Cirrenes was little surprised that Wynne first noticed her self-induced injury, the mage hurrying over to heal her and gaining everyone's attention in the process.

_Some things never change_, Cirrenes smiled as Wynne bandaged her hand. _I wouldn't have it any other way_, Cirrenes finally felt at ease, even with Alistair's glare pointed in her direction.


End file.
